


Some kind of Art

by GoodIdeaAtTheTime



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: AU, M/M, Pure Smut, Smut, finger painting?, fun with art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 22:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodIdeaAtTheTime/pseuds/GoodIdeaAtTheTime
Summary: The latest model for Duo's life drawing class was both a gift and a curse - a gift, because he was gorgeous. A curse - because he was gorgeous, and you don't make things weird for the model by lusting after them. That's the Rule.Trowa hadn't been told about the Rule.





	Some kind of Art

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amberly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberly/gifts).



Duo was in trouble. 

There was one basic, unbreakable rule to his life drawing classes - don’t make the model feel uncomfortable.

This broke down into subsections -

  1. Don't be rude to the model
  2. Respect the model’s boundaries
  3. Don't flirt with the model
  4. Don't make things weird



Duo desperately wanted to do number 3, and in overcompensating to avoid it had ended up doing number 4. 

It was straightforward. A common courtesy. These people were here for the class, naked. They didn't have to do this, and yes they got paid but that didn't mean that they could take it for granted that the models would appear. And Duo had never had a problem before.

But this latest guy - Trowa. He was dangerous.

He was on the college gymnastics team or something, and he was like a fucking statue. He couldn't have been born, he had to have been sculpted. Even the Professor had waxed a little lyrical about how wonderful Trowa was as a study of anatomy and muscle, with no spare body fat, and perfect definition. 

It was bad enough when he was doing normal poses. When they did speed poses he started to show off his strength and flexibility, twisting and pushing himself into gravity defying poses. It was dizzying, and that was not least because a lot of Duo's blood really wanted to be somewhere other than his head. 

Not to misunderstand him - the art he was producing was glorious, Trowa was made to be drawn. All beautiful lines and planes, and Duo revelled in studying him. Even when he wasn’t in session, he couldn’t stop thinking about him, drawing him, over and over. The whole semester Trowa had been a regular, and the whole semester had been glorious torture. 

So the end of the year and the advent of summer break was a mixed blessing - finally he could relax and stop worrying he was going to cause a scandal at school; however, Trowa was going to be ripped from his life. 

It was a strange mix of relief and melancholy that had him nursing his beer in the corner of the end of year party, too gloomy to be social, and sending his friends off to have fun without him as he indulged in a thoroughly good mope. 

The art was on display on the walls and screens which had been set up - what had started as the end of year show had naturally devolved into the end of year booze-up. Duo was just wondering how he could sneak out to go mope at home when he felt someone standing over him. 

“Hey, you were in the class, right?” 

Trowa held out his hand to Duo, who stared blankly at him for a long moment before taking it to shake. Trowa’s hand was large, his grip warm and sure.

“I’m Trowa,” Trowa prompted, when Duo just continued to blankly shake his hand.

“Duo - I’m Duo,” he said hastily, snatching his hand back, and trying to remember to blink, not to stare intently and study the man up close. He was even more stunning at this proximity. 

“Which are yours?” 

“W-what?”

Trowa turned slightly to gesture at the displays.

“Which ones did you do?”

Duo was suddenly very aware that the majority of his portfolio featured Trowa. In exquisite detail, and lovingly rendered. 

“Oh, um…”

“I’d love to see them,” Trowa said, as Duo hesitated, clearly reading his hesitancy and pressing on. “You always looked really focused during the sessions. I liked watching you draw.”

“You were watching me?” Duo croaked, his throat suddenly tight as this tall, beautiful man smiled gently down at him. 

“Only seemed fair, you were watching me,” Trowa told him mildly, taking a casual sip of his own drink.

“I… guess that’s true.”

“Your pictures?”

“Er, right…” Pushing off from wall, a bit dazed and giddy, Duo led the way to the far wall, where his art had been mounted and hung. 

It wasn’t the only thing that was hung, and Duo kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, taking a generous mouthful of his beer as Trowa leaned forwards to study the pictures. This was like the real life equivalent of that dream where you end up naked in school. Except, instead of naked, he was fully clothed but having his sexual fantasies closely inspected by the object of them, and critiqued. 

“You’re really good.”

Or maybe not.

“Uh, thanks.” Duo looked up, wary and surprised, and found Trowa grinning at him.

“I guess all that concentration paid off.”

“I guess it did.”

“Hey, maybe you could help me out? I’ve got a bit of an art project of my own on, but I need some help.”

What… what was happening here? Duo found himself glancing around suspiciously to look for a camera crew to see if this was a set up. He was half expecting to see hidden cameras mounted around, or a group of people subtly trying to watch and not snicker to themselves. 

But no, no-one was paying them the blindest bit of attention to them. It was just him and the surprisingly intense gaze Trowa had fixed on him. He took a mouthful of beer to wet his suddenly dry mouth.

“Sure, I guess I can help out. Is it in one of the studios here, or…?”

“It’s back at my place.”

Oh dear sweet baby Jesus. 

“Oh. Cool. Okay. So, when do you wanna…?” Duo’s palms were getting a little sweaty and he was wondering if, maybe, he was getting the right vibes here, or if he was misreading things after a semester of lusting after the man in front of him in intimate visual detail.

“How about now?” Trowa asked blithely. “No time like the present.”

“I -” What the hell what the hell what the hell. “Sure, why not?”

Trowa smiled at him and it was bright and a little predatory, and then he drained his beer, Duo following suit and then falling into step behind him as the taller man led the way out of the door.

 

*  
  


Trowa lived off campus, in a small studio apartment just around the corner from the art building. It was in a converted warehouse, exposed brick and steel beams, but Trowa had made it cozy with blankets thrown just about everywhere.

On the counter there was a picture of Trowa with a woman with curly auburn hair, smiling proudly and hugging him close. A girlfriend? Duo felt like he recognised her.

“That’s my sister, Catherine,” Trowa said, voice low and very close to Duo’s ear, and Duo nearly jumped out of his skin, instead jerking backwards into the warm, solid chest that was right behind him.

“Why do I recognise her?” Duo asked, quickly stepping away and turning to face Trowa.

The model stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, emphasising his very defined arms, and looked down at the photograph with a small smile.

“She got the gold in the 2000 Olympics, for Russia. Uneven bars.”

“...Wait, your sister is Catherine  _ Bloom _ ?” Duo grabbed the picture and studied it more closely. “Why is she wearing the US team kit?”

“We moved over here when I was in high school,” Trowa said, watching Duo, head tilted. “She coaches the US national team now.”

“She was amazing,” Duo said, looking up at Trowa. “Why did you guys move over here?”

“Well, our mom was Russian, but our father was American, so we had dual nationality… And when I told her I was gay, she figured Russia might not be the safest place for me.”

Duo nearly dropped the photo frame as he was setting it back down, and fumbled to catch it before it fell on the floor. Trowa didn’t seem to notice, he had turned around and was fishing in a cupboard for something, which was good because it gave Duo time to pull himself together. 

Just because he was gay didn’t mean he was interested. Just because he was gay, and had invited Duo back to his apartment didn’t mean he was interested. Just because he was gay, and had invited Duo back to his apartment, and kept getting into his personal space didn’t mean he was interested.

“Ah, here it is.”

Trowa turned around with his ‘art project’ and a satisfied smirk, and Duo began to realise that, actually, yes. Trowa was interested.

“Your art project is a sex canvas,” Duo said, trying to keep a straight face, even as he suddenly felt more than a little bit giddy.

“Yes.” Trowa said. “I told the guys on the team that I had a crush on someone in the art class, and they bought it for me. Thought it might help. Is it working?”

It was definitely working.

“I dunno,” Duo purred, strolling closer and taking the box off Trowa to inspect it. “You’re comin’ on pretty strong here.”

“I can come on stronger.”

“Really? I’m not sure -”

He was cut off as Trowa swooped in and pressed their lips together. Still holding the box, Duo was defenceless as the kiss deepened, hands sliding along his jaw, fingers burying in his hair, lips and tongue wreaking havoc on his higher brain functions. Only the solid rectangle of cardboard between them was all that was keeping Duo from embarrassing himself with the sudden and very eager erection that was trapped in his jeans, the reaction to months of lust suddenly being realised.

“How was that?” Trowa murmured, pulling back a little for breath.

“...Pretty convincing,” Duo admitted. “Not sure it’s convincing enough to let you make art with my butt print on it. Think you’ve gotta work a bit harder there.”

“It’ll be fun,” Trowa said, trailing sucking, nipping kisses up Duo’s neck. “Your ass is already a work of art, it’s a crime not to frame it.”

“That is so cheesy,” Duo said, even as he tilted his head back to allow Trowa better access, feeling his breath quicken and temperature rise. “I ain’t buyin’ what you’re sellin’ with lines like that.”

But then Trowa reached between them, eased the box out of Duo’s grip and tossed it aside, pulling Duo firmly against him and - oh.  _ Oh _ . There was that body part which he had been drawing for months, fixating on for months, fantasising about for months. Oh Jesus.

“That’s more convincing,” he croaked. Trowa hummed and tugged at Duo’s earlobe with his teeth, rolling their hips together, that bulge - that  _ very _ promising bulge - eagerly rubbing against the answering hardness in Duo’s jeans. When one strong arm wrapped around his waist and lips were against his again, he gave up trying to be cool, gave up trying to resist.

His arms snaked around Trowa’s neck and he clung on for dear life, enjoying the groan that rumbled through the hard chest as Duo arched back against him, rubbing up and savouring each delicious tingle.

Hands were fumbling with shirts and buttons, and then Duo was mapping with his hands the abs and pecs he had lovingly drawn again and again. 

“Jesus, you could have been sculpted,” he muttered, and he would have been almost annoyed by it if he wasn’t imminently due to have it all pressed up against him, over him, under him. 

“I think you flattered me in your drawings,” Trowa said, finally managing to get Duo’s belt buckle undone and unbuttoning the fly. 

And then, he was sinking to his knees, shoving jeans and underwear out the way, and he had swallowed Duo nearly whole, a firm calloused grip around the base of his cock. Duo’s knees nearly gave way, and he had to steady himself on Trowa’s shoulders - those broad, muscular shoulders, fucking hell - as lips and tongue dragged over his throbbing erection.

He was drastically wound up from very little encouragement, every vivid dream and private fantasy suddenly crowding to the front of his mind, battling his consciousness with the image of the very man on his knees on the floor in front of him, mouth stretched around him, eyes closed in bliss, humming his satisfaction around the cock in his mouth.

Duo was at risk of embarrassing himself in a different way.

“Stop,” he gasped, trying to push Trowa away, as he felt white edging in on the edge of his vision, his whole body almost numb with pleasure. “Stop, it’s too much…”

But Trowa was clearly a contrary sort, and instead sucked harder, bobbed his head faster, and the hand on the base of his cock tightened, twisted, rough calluses setting off sparks behind his eyes and then words weren’t even a thing any more. Duo could just gasp and moan and shudder his way through his orgasm, his whole body vibrating with pleasure, his hips jerking and twitching as he tried to press deeper into Trowa’s mouth, even as he curled himself forward, gasping and fingers digging into hard muscle.

When sensation finally came back to him, both Trowa’s hands were on his hips, effortlessly holding Duo’s weight up and smirking at him whilst Duo stared gormlessly back.

“Um,” Duo said.

“So,” Trowa said, waiting for Duo to lean his weight back onto his feet and standing up, “what do you think about my canvas?”

“I… thought you were kidding,” Duo admitted, taking his time letting go of the other man’s shoulders, his hands very reluctant to relinquish the grasp.What he didn’t add was that after that blowjob he’d do whatever Trowa wanted.

“I mostly was,” Trowa said, but he turned and retrieved the box from where it had landed on the bed, tugging the lid off and peering inside speculatively. “But then I think it might be fun. And I’m kind of into the idea of getting to smear you in paint.”

That was such a weirdly specific and strangely erotic image, and Duo was suddenly aware that he was stood there, shirtless, jeans and underwear around his thighs, cock still on display, half-hard and rapidly regaining interest in the situation. And Trowa… Trowa was reaching for the button on his own jeans, holding a bottle of blue paint as he flicked it open, looking sideways at Duo with a very hungry expression.

“I - I think we need to put this sheet down,” Duo croaked, pulling a large plastic covering out of the box. Trowa made a ‘go ahead’ gesture, and then there was an appreciative noise from somewhere behind him as he bent down over the bed, hastily trying to spread out the sheet across the bed.

He stood turning back to Trowa, and suddenly cold, wet paint was being smeared on his chest. 

Trowa was focused, watching his fingers carefully tracing shapes across Duo’s skin, and Duo stood, frozen, feeling warm hands under cool paint teasing over his nipples, down the centre of his chest, and across his stomach.

And then the fingers were gone, and Trowa was smirking, studying his work, and looking pleased with himself. Confused as to why the touching had stopped, Duo looked down.

And saw the smiley face daubed across his abdomen. 

“Oh, oh is that what we’re doin’?” Grabbing the other bottle of paint, he flicked off the cap and squirted a generous amount of green into his hand, surging forward and slapping it across Trowa’s very toned, very broad chest.

Trowa nodded thoughtfully, and then his painty hand was sliding along Duo’s jaw, tugging their faces together and kissing him forcefully. Duo began to shove his jeans down and then reached across to grab at Trowa’s.

Although this was tricky as neither of them was willing to relinquish holds on their paint bottles. 

“This’d be easier with no paint,” Duo pointed out.

“I’ll put mine down when you put yours down.”

“I’ll put mine down when you put  _ yours _ down.”

Instead, Trowa pushed him down onto the mattress, squirting more paint across his chest. Sat on the edge of the bed, Duo reached out to grab the bulge that was now at face height, dipping into the dishevelled underwear, pushing it out of the way and releasing that glorious, gorgeous erection.

The cock that he had studied for months was right there, swollen and heavy, thick and dripping. It was everything Duo knew it would be, and he wanted it inside him. Immediately.

“Please tell me you have condoms.”

“Bedside cabinet.”

Duo scrambled across the bed, kicking off the last of his clothes, leaning over the edge to fish the box of condoms and a tube of lube out. The bed creaked behind him.

“You look amazing like this,” Trowa rumbled, hands smoothing across Duo’s ass and up his back. Thighs pressed up against his, erection lined up between his cheeks, hips rolling. 

Duo rocked back, groaning, and passed the box and tube blindly behind him.

There was a brief pause, some rustles, and then a finger was teasing at his entrance, pressing gently inside, and oh god, he thought he might come again just from that - except he knew there was something so  _ so  _ much better waiting for him.

“Hurry up,” Duo insisted, rocking back against the two fingers now, and the noise Trowa made was extremely strained.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Trowa said, his voice tight. “I’m… I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I feel like if anyone knows how hung you are it’s me, just fuck me already.”

“You’re very convincing.”

And then the fingers were gone, and something  _ huge _ and rock hard was in their place. 

“Oh  _ jesus _ …” Duo dropped his head down, moving his weight to his elbows and relaxing into the stretch and burn. He concentrated on keeping his breathing even, as Trowa entered him in one long, agonisingly slow push. It seemed to last forever, in such a good way.

Then thighs were flush with his, hands tight on his hips, and Duo could feel everything, deep and solid, pulsing in time with Trowa's heartbeat.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… adjusting.” Duo wet his suddenly dry lips, as the burn started to fade and the glorious fullness began to thrum with pleasure instead. “It didn't seem this big when I was drawing it.”

“Yeah, your professor keeps the room a little cold.”

“You’re from  _ Russia _ ."

“We don't fuck in the  _ snow _ .”

Duo was beginning to think he liked Trowa best when he was naked and silently draped over the furniture, but then he adjusted his weight slightly, and that glorious cock set off fireworks behind his eyes and no, actually, he liked Trowa best just where he was.

“Do that again,” he said.

“What, this?”

“Oh yes, Jesus Christ. More.”

Trowa obeyed, pulling out a small way and pressing back in with a broken groan, as Duo moaned helplessly into the bed.

“You're still so tight,” Trowa breathed, and his grip was bruising on Duo's hips. Duo could feel every twitch and throb inside him, stimulating and teasing even when Trowa was still.

“I don't care, I just need you to fuck me. Immediately.” 

“You didn't used to be this bossy.”

“You didn't used to be this insubordinate.”

Duo pushed backwards and there was a choked gasp from behind him, and Trowa’s hips jerked to meet him, and fireworks exploded behind Duo’s eyes. Oh  _ yes _ , that was it. He pushed back again, chasing the sensation and pulling Trowa into his pace. 

Every thrust filled him completely, every movement dragged across all his nerve endings, including that specific cluster of them which sent waves and waves of indescribable pleasure through him, pushing out any sort of coherent thought. He was reduced down to base instincts and pure need. 

So when Trowa let out a growl and leaned forward over him, one strong arm wrapping around Duo’s chest, the other coming down to brace himself on the mattress as he lengthened his strokes and began to pound into Duo in earnest. If he thought it had been intense before, all Duo could do now was cling on for the ride. 

His orgasm almost took him by surprise, cock untouched, and body wrecked, and the noise Trowa made as his body clamped around him even tighter - the arm around him flexed and then Duo could feel every pulse and twitch deep inside him, and the tingles and aftershocks that set through his body were delicious.

Tension bled from Trowa’s body, and he just about managed to move his weight to the side before he fell to the mattress, pulling Duo down with him.

Into the puddle of paint that had gathered, from the open bottles that had been discarded in favour of other activities, mixing a little with Duo’s come on the plastic covering.

It was a bit of a shock to the system, and they flinched, Trowa slipping from Duo’s body and leaving him feeling empty, even as he was sated… and sticky. He sat up, pulling his braid over his shoulder and looking at himself with comical dismay.

“We forgot to put the canvas out,” Trowa said, reaching over and smearing the paint on Duo’s back, spreading it to any bits that had somehow, miraculously remained clean.

“Actually, I think that’s a bonus,” Duo told him, scooping up some paint off the sheet and dumping it on the other man in revenge. The paint from before the sex had dried on his skin, including the smiley face, but the rest was sticky and slick, thicker bits dripping in globlets down his torso. “I can’t leave looking like this.”

“I have a very nice shower.” Trowa propped his head up on his hand. He waggled his eyebrows and leered. “Want me to show you how to use it? I can help you get the hard to reach places.”

Now there was an offer that couldn’t be refused.

  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMBERLY!!! I am sorry it is a bit late, but I hope you like it, and I hope you had an amazing day.
> 
> As ever, mad thanks to Kangofu-cb for the beta!
> 
> NOTES: The actual gold medalist of the Uneven Bars at the Sydney Olympics was was Svetlana Khorkina, who was a pretty impressive performer. She competed at the 1996, 2000 and 2004 Olympics, won seven Olympic medals and twenty World Championship medals. She was also the first gymnast to win three all-around titles at the World Championships, and is one of the most successful female gymnasts of all time.


End file.
